On Forked Roads
by throughtheparadox
Summary: These came from 2 prompts: Sherlock and Irene meeting in London; and Sherlock proposing to Molly after the engagement was off with Tom. I played with the ideas a bit.


"Sorry your engagement's off, though I'm fairly grateful for the lack of a ring." Sherlock bit his tongue as soon as he said it. His cheeks stung after Molly slapped him for his drug use and he let her. If it was any other person, this would go unforgiven. But Molly was different.

He was fully aware that he was with Janine now, he has his reasons of course, and yet, during his times in the drug den, he was trying to consider to end it.

The slurring of the teenagers and coldness of the cement in that abandoned building never disturbed his mind as much as what he was thinking now.

There was always her, Molly Hooper, the girl who was clearly in love with him. She has always been there for him, understanding his whims. He was aware that she was important to him, he meant it when he said that she was the one who counted. And yet...

Irene Adler. She was someone he was fascinated with. The Woman who always clawed her way into his mind without his permission and for countless times, he let her stay. He would never forget the way her eyes shone at him, her smile so dangerously beautiful, her mind was something even more enticing.

Maybe it was the opium blurring his thoughts. He raked his hair with his hands, frustrated. He is not a man of sentiment, not a man of romance, and yet what has become of him?

His head was buzzing from the drug, his thoughts still lingering in his subconscious. The most buried part of his mind.

As soon as everything is over, he will make his decision. And for once, he would let his heart rule his head.

A few weeks after the scandal that James Moriarty was dead, he was back in his flat, contemplating. John came to his flat earlier today, all worried and yet happy. The doctor fears for his family and yet the thought of welcoming a daughter lifts him up. Before he left, he put up a statement for the detective.

"Despite the bloody things going on with you, Sherlock, I hope you consider the fact that I would want to get back at you for that best man speech." the doctor said.

Sherlock's eyebrows quirked up. "What?"

"I hope you find a person who will make you as happy as how I am with Mary."

He knocked on Molly's door one evening, a surprised look on the pathologist's face.

"Sherlock! Oh dear. What are you doing out in the cold? Come in!"

Sherlock helped himself in Molly's flat, almost hissing at the sight of her cat. It reminds him so much of Mycroft. A cat among the goldfish. Pathetic.

"Can't it wait until tomorrow? Is it Jim?" she asked, her voice urgent yet full of concern.

"Jim." Sherlock repeated, his lips pursed.

"Oh. I didn't mean... I was just about to have dinner, let's talk there?" Molly replied awkwardly.

They ate in silence, Molly averting her eyes from Sherlock's piercing look.

"Molly." Sherlock muttered.

The pathologist looked up.

"Have you understood my intentions when I wished you well at the time you were engaged? Clearly, I have not been straightforward as I had noticed that it still lasted for months, even up to Mary and John's wedding. I was trying to be... poetic? Is that right? Erm... To let my words carry on my message. I was deliberately trying to tell you to reconsider, that I am unnerved...*pauses*... Yes, unnerved by the idea that you were and will be with someone at the time of my absence and return. I openly commented on my opinion about your ended engagement." He pointedly said.

Molly stared at him, mouth agape. "You...you were jealous?"

"Jealous? I believe that puts it lightly, Molly Hooper."

To Sherlock's surprise, Molly burst into tears. He goes to her, levelling his eyes to hers.

"Was it something I said?" He asked, confused.

To answer, Molly wrapped her arms around Sherlock and she heard her laugh.

"I adore you, Molly Hooper. You matter the most to me." Sherlock whispered as he kissed the top of Molly's head.

A couple of months had passed and their friends continue to support the relationship of the two. Sherlock still has difficulties understanding that taking Molly to a case is not very romantic, and yet Molly accepts that this was the man she fell in love with and would not try and change him.

During Christmas, Sherlock was almost at Molly's flat when he saw someone very familiar staring at him at a distance.

"Mr. Holmes."

Sherlock walked over to meet the person, stopping almost parallel to Molly's door.

"Ms. Adler." he breathed.

Her cheeks was flushed with the cold, her hair done just like the time they first met, an elegant fur coat around her body. She stared at the flowers Sherlock was holding, her eyes flicked confusion for a fraction of a second.

"Meeting someone?" She asked, her voice somehow bitter.

"Yes... Erm... My girlfriend." Sherlock said, his heart racing. This is The Woman in front of him.

"You seemed to be in quite a lot of relationships since... Well... Since we saw each other in Karachi." Irene said, her tone still stinging Sherlock like poison.

"Ms. Adler..." He tried to tell her that he didn't mean to betray her but he bit his tongue, there was nothing between them. Sherlock's pride told him he doesn't owe her anything.

"Does she know?" Irene asked pointedly.

Sherlock stared at her, confused. "What does..."

Irene laughed sarcastically. "Us? Me? You can't deny we had something, Mr. Holmes. Or should I fetch your brother for proof?"

Sherlock cleared his throat, his mind palace running through the times Irene Adler had popped into his head, the mere idea of her a silent relief to him.

Before he could reply, Irene drew nearer, almost just a breath away from him. "Mr. Holmes, I never thought you could be heartless."

"Ms. Adler, step out of the way." He said, his voice cracking. She brought back memories of uncertainty, doubt and... inexplicable pangs in his chest.

"Kiss me. We had nothing, right? Just kiss me and walk away. We both have nothing to lose." Irene purred as she tiptoed to reach Sherlock.

"Sherlock?!"

Molly stood in the doorway, her eyes wide, tears slowly rushing to her cheeks. Her was carrying was sprawled to the floor, her hands and knees trembling, not from the coldness from the blanket of snow.

Both the detective and the dominatrix jumped away from each other, Sherlock clearly stunned. Irene, on the other hand, lowered her head in apology.

"This is not what you think. I started it. Sherlock has nothing to..." Irene started but Molly slammed the door to them.

Sherlock was torn at the moment. More confused than when he was shot in Magnussen's office a few months back.

"I was going to propose." Sherlock told Irene, his tone flat.

Irene shook her head slightly. "Do you see a future with her?"

Sherlock was taken by Irene's question. He looked at the door Molly disappeared in.

"If you change your mind, you know how to find me, Sherlock. Your world is not hers. We, on the other hand...Goodbye, Mr. Holmes." Irene turned away from him and started walking away.

Sherlock's eyes followed Irene Adler leaving and yet his heart reminded him of Molly. He fished the spare key she had given him from his pocket and ran the up the stairs.

"Molly? Molly. I'd like to discuss what happened earlier. It wasn't what you think it is. You're making assumptions without knowing all the facts." He shouted at Molly's bedroom door. As he was about to knock again, Molly opened the door, eyes swollen, tears still rushing from her eyes.

"Sherlock, please. I need to be alone."

"Molly..." he brought out the ring he bought for her earlier.

Molly saw the ring and shook her head, a little too much. Sherlock tried to hold her but Molly pushed him away, slightly. "Just go, Sherlock. Please."

This was more painful than a gunshot. Sherlock walked hazily to Baker Street, locking himself up in his room, leaving Mrs. Hudson, Mary, John and Lestrade with questioning faces.

Weeks passed, New Year's Eve fleeted away. Molly only answered his call once to ask him who Irene was. He told her everything, all the technicalities, and yet Molly told him he doesn't get the point.

"Who is she to you?" He remembered her asking.

"I just told you."

"No, Sherlock. Who is she to you?"

"I don't understand."

"Yes. You don't."

He asked John for help and the only response he got was "You have to bloody choose, mate. If you really have made up your mind about Molly, then Irene Adler wouldn't make you question that decision."

Irene Adler. She will always be The Woman who made his pulse quicken, his blood pumping. They have a level of understanding that was unique to just the two of them. They have an ongoing mind game... And a secret kiss, an unshared story. They had Karachi.

Molly Hooper, on the other hand, accepts him entirely. She has stood by him, believed in him . She was the one he leaned on when he was lost and hopeless. Molly's love is pure and sincere and despite all the hurt he had inflicted her, unconsciously or not. She was the one who counted.

Day and night Sherlock contemplated until he reached a decision. He grabbed his scarf and his Belstaff coat and walked out of 221B, walking towards the road that ends to the woman he had chosen.


End file.
